


Coming Home

by blacksmith_femme



Category: Prey (Video Game 2017)
Genre: F/F, Fluff and Angst, Morgan Yu is a trans woman, Sappy Ending, Trans Female Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-31
Updated: 2019-01-31
Packaged: 2019-10-20 00:03:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17611610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blacksmith_femme/pseuds/blacksmith_femme
Summary: After a week-long absence from her girlfriend Mikhaila, Morgan is feeling a little anxious...





	Coming Home

**Author's Note:**

> My first real work of fanfiction - sorry if it's a little bit cheesy, I'm a sucker for sappy endings.

Morgan Yu was exhausted.

She'd just returned from a series of aggravating meetings with the board of directors of KASMA Corp. - those smug bastards were stealing the tech that Morgan and Alex had poured years of their lives into, and didn't even have the decency to say it to her face. Stepping off the shuttle back onto Talos 1, though, she wasn't thinking about any of that. The only thing on her mind was the same woman who'd occupied her thoughts since the moment she left - her girlfriend Mikhaila. Even though it'd only been a week-long trip to KASMA's lunar facility, both the mind-numbing boredom of the corporate negotiations and the palpable absence of the most important person in her life had made that time seem like an eternity.

Entering back into the station's lobby, she was lost in thought, barely even noticing the greetings from passing personnel. She ascended the stairs to her office slowly, all the while absent-mindedly fidgeting with the souvenir she'd brought back for Mikhaila. The Pytheas moonbase wasn't much of a place for tourist trinkets, but luckily, one of the KASMA bosses (the Director of Engineering, maybe, she couldn't quite remember) had presented her with a beautiful replica of the moon itself, carved from a fist-sized chunk of soft lunar regolith. A gesture of good will, he'd said. Disingenuous though he might have been, the sculpture was indeed striking.

Morgan paused for a second on the landing outside the Trauma Center and surveyed the lobby below, collecting her thoughts. Why had these past seven days of separation from her partner been so uniquely stressful? And why did the idea of seeing Mikhaila again make her so nervous she felt like vomiting? Morgan closed her eyes and took a deep breath, releasing after a long few seconds. She hadn't felt like this since she was a teenager, back when - No, she suppressed that thought before it even came to fruition: she didn't need to be thinking about things that would only make her anxiety worse. Turning back towards the staircase, she hurriedly marched up the stairs and into her office, clutching the moon sculpture even tighter. Inside her office, she quickly put her gift down on her desk and stood with one hand over her face, trying not to well up with tears.

“Morgan!”

The shout was quickly followed up by a pair of wiry but strong arms clasping Morgan from behind in a tight embrace. It was Mikhaila, without a doubt. Morgan's mood changed rapidly to a mix of shame at being caught on the verge of crying and elation from seeing Mikhaila again. There was no way around it - Morgan turned around to face her loving partner, the wetness in her eyes beginning to run down her cheeks, and managed to sob an uncharacteristically shaky “I missed you” before bursting into full-on tears and collapsing into Mikhaila's shocked but welcoming arms.

A few minutes and a cup of crappy Fabricator-made coffee later, Morgan had collected herself again. The two of them were sitting together, Mikhaila distracting her by telling her about the funny mishaps of a newly-hired engineer. Morgan was chuckling gently, but something was clearly still on her mind. Interrupting her girlfriend, Morgan murmured, “I have something I need to tell you.”

“What is it, душа?” asked Mikhaila, looking over at her.

Morgan gathered all her strength, preparing herself for the worst. “I wasn't always… like this,” she managed to say.

Puzzled, Mikhaila joked “You weren't always like what, the Vice President of TranStar? Блин, Morgan, and here I thought you'd been directing Neuromod research since you could walk.”

Clenching her fists, Morgan said the sentence she'd been worrying about how to say ever since they'd started dating. “Mikhaila, I'm a trans woman!”

Mikhaila paused for a fraction of a second, then beamed a smile of sincere relief that made Morgan's heart flutter. She chuckled, “Ach, Morgan, you really had me scared for a second there - I thought you were going to say something bad!”

It looked as though, after years of exploring the depths of the universe's deepest mysteries, Morgan had finally found something that confused her. Hesitantly, she asked “So, you aren't mad at me?”

“Of course not! I'm glad you felt comfortable enough to tell me.”

“And you aren't going to… leave me?”

Mikhaila was taken aback. “Боже мой, Morgan, why would I leave you? I love you to pieces!”

“But, all this, all of *me*, it’s not… real.”

“What do you mean? Of course you’re a real woman!”

Morgan grimaced. “I took hormones to change my body, neuromods to let me speak with a feminine voice, to know how to apply makeup, to -”

Mikhaila quickly cut her off. “Morgan, you did all of that to become your true self, and that self is who I fell in love with.” Laying a hand on her shoulder, she continued, “And regardless, your intellect, your humor, there’s no neuromod to change those, and that’s what I love the most about you.”

Morgan began to well up again involuntarily, out of happiness this time. “So,” she asked, “this doesn’t change our plans for the future? Of getting married and moving in together?”

“Of course not,” smiled Mikhaila. “Do you remember that old poem by Pushkin I taught you?”

“How could I forget?” Morgan had, since getting serious with Mikhaila, learned Russian by Neuromod. She spoke:

“Местечко получу, и я же  
Препоручу семейство наше  
И воспитание ребят.  
И станем жить, и так до гроба  
Рука с рукой дойдем мы оба  
И внуки нас похоронят.”

[TRANSLATION:]  
“We’ll get a cozy home, and I  
Will handle the family affairs  
And the raising of our children.  
And we’ll begin to live, and thus until the grave  
Hand in hand, the two of us will go,  
And our grandchildren shall bury us.”

“Morgan, you've made me the happiest woman in the - no, not in the world, in the galaxy.” Now Mikhaila was beginning to cry too.

The two of them embraced, newly assured of their love for each other. In this timeline, the Talos 1 disaster never happened - Morgan stepped from being vice president of TranStar (after blowing the whistle on their unethical activities) and went back to Earth to settle down with Mikhaila. Reader, you'll be glad to learn that every last bit of that poem above came to pass.


End file.
